The Layover
by john6lisa
Summary: A fluffy/smutty two parter to help get over this writers block. Set during S2. Myka and HG go on a snag,bag and tag in New Orleans.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Just a smut/fluff story to hopefully break me out of this writer's block**

* * *

Myka detested traveling during the holidays. If it was not for the severity a two deaths from the artifact they now had tagged and bagged, Myka would have traded a year's worth of inventory to have avoided this;

"No if ands or buts Agent Bering," Artie huffing as he slammed the files down on the breakfast table in the sunroom of the B&B a week ago. Helena's surprise from the gruff agent showed for but an iota. Leena stilling the teapot over the older woman's cup. A faint smile lingered till the agent settled the shaking of her hand.

"No worries HG," Leena whispered near the agent's ear as Myka huffed, the loud scraping of the wooden chair legs across the floor causing all to turn at the tall woman now pacing the small sunroom, Leena winking at HG as they watched Myka rub at the back of her neck, no words escaping as she waved her arm at the retreating forms of Pete and Claudia rushing out the room.

"I am not happy with this either, but the Regents, in all their wisdom saw fit that …" Arties grumbled words cutting off as Mrs. Frederic cleared her throat.

"As agent Neilson is so eloquently vocalizing," her words halted as all heads snapped to the open French doors as she stood stoically near the jamb. "This is a need to know assignment agents Lattimer and Ms. Donovan," her face stone cold as she adjusted her black horn rimmed glasses, dark eyes narrowing at the two faces peeking around the edge of the kitchen.

"But Mrs. F, Mykas and I are the A-team and grandma here just got on board," Pete waving his hand at HG, refusing to look Myka in the eye as his gut churned.

"Thank you for your scientific reasons Agent Lattimer, but this case requires Agents Wells expertise in 19 century accutroms, coupled with Agent Bering's eidetic memory and sure shoot," the woman was saying in a monotone voice as she tugged down on the pink tweed coat.

"19th century porno be damn," Artie grumbled under his breath.

"Which are harming innocents, and two reported cases we know so far had caused two deaths, Arthur. This is not something to be dismissed even if the conditions cause concern or uncomfortableness" Mrs Frederic's cold even voice was without a hint of tone. "Ms Donovan is underage as is the emotional maturity of Agent Lattimer. Agent Wells is well versed in this centuries proclivities and Agent Bering provides ample reason, logic and self-control."

"Fine, give me the files," Myka huffed as she sat down, inching her chair away from Helena's seat at the small breakfast table as she scanned the files. "Where and when do we leave?' Myka's voice falling in defeat as she sat back, jerking her fingers away from Helena's hands as she reached for the files.

"New Orleans," Artie huffed as he slapped the plane tickets down on top of the files. "Oh, and a little reminder since your hotel will be located on Bourbon street during Mardi gras," as he handed out the bundle of cash. "No beads!" he glared at Helena.

XXX

"Why was Arthur looking so cross at me with the remark of beads?" Helena was asking, holding her carryon bag as she waited for the taller agent to stow their bags in the overhead compartments on the plane.

"May I?" came a soft, feminine voice, both women turning as the flight attendant was more fixated on the third opened button on Helena's blouse.

"Thank you," Helena replied as the woman helped, catching the side glare from Myka as she crossed her arms.

"Wait for it," Myka giving a low growl as she sat on the aisle seat, the flight attendendant taking extra care to lean over, and beads in hand, and eyes never leaving that third open button on HG's blouse.

"You will need an extra bag for all the beads," she winked. Both Myka and Helena leaning around the seats as they watched the woman sashay down the aisle.

Not a word was said as they buckled in, Helena confused (not a saint at the flirtations) that Myka had choose to say nothing at the exchange. An hour in and few Scotches later, Helena pulled the book out of Myka's hand. "Would you kindly explain this modern thing of beads? First time to New Orleans, my education of modern things still learning."

Helena crossed her arms as she received no response from the agent seated next to her. 'Desperate times' Helena whispered to herself after flagging down the attendant, two Scotches placed on their trays. Helena steeled herself, remembering the frank conversation from that time long ago they used to have as Myka educated her of modern times.

" _Myka, what is the advantage of these so called freedom pads verses this Tampons? Back in my day, a special cloth was used"_

Helena leaned back, giving a small chuckle at crimson that crossed Myka's face as she sipped her drink.

"Fine!" Myka huffed, slamming her unread book shut. "Here, in New Orleans, during this celebration, the more … cleavage you show" Myka stuttered as she waved at Helena's chest. "The more beads you collect. It is a drunken, debauchery tradition that still goes on." Myka sighed, willing her face to fade back to a light pink hue as she picked up her book.

"I would have given a treasure trove of beads just for the honor of seeing that button unleashed," Helena then leaning but yet not touching the third button on Myka's plum button up.

For a brief moment, green eyes were entranced by Mahogany, Myka's bottom lip subconsciously licking at dry skin.

" _We are starting our final approach for landing and ask that all seats and trays are in their upright position._

 _XXX_

"So, any idea what we are looking for, Claud?" Myka had already rushed into their small room, dialing up the Farnsworth before Helena had even had time to shut the hotel room door.

"Um, it's shaped ...polished Ivory with maybe leather straps …" Myka oblivious to red cheeks matching the young girl's hair.

"Shaped like what Claudia?" Myka's voice rough from the three hour drive from the airport and two hour crawl to their hotel. Helena snatched the Farnsworth away after tossing her suitcase on the bed.

Her first meeting with Myka at gunpoint gave her the respect of this woman and cut to the chase,

 _finally a modern woman that could match me;_

Helena had thought, but so many months of getting to know the agent made her realize the deep seated, repressed desires crippled this modern woman she was slowly falling for. The mix of modern brash coupled with the demure of the heart of her time conflicted her head and heart. A few brief moments washed away the pain and revenge of over 100 years in bronze.

"A phallic shaped object," Helena said, the words causing both the younger women to stutter and blush.

"Of course, the lost strap on from the Marquis De Sade!" Artie's voice chiming in behind Claudia


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 **A/N Am trying to wrap this up. Thank you for the kind reviews and yes, is a fan of the snag, bag and tag myself. Maybe a few more chapters.**

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 **"** Well that was a complete waste of time," Myka grunted as she tossed the empty static bag on her bed. Not waiting for Helena's reply as she grabbed her night clothes and marched into the bathroom.

"I would not say that," HG mumbling more to herself then the agent as she took off her jacket, her fingers stilling after half way through smoothing her lapel as she tilted her head to Myka's rough words.

"I think the last thing you would need to know was the transverse history of pornography since your de-bronzing " Myka sighed.

Helena tilted her head as she heard the water turning on in the small bathroom. A mischief grin repressed as quickly as the furrowed frown on her brow. She knew some placating was needed.

Helena could hear the muted sigh from the bathroom, "My thoughts, mind you dar…" clearing her throat before her next words. "Do not misconstrue me, I really enjoyed the modern history lesson in the 21st century means of pleasure and while I do enjoy a good romp at a museum or three …" her words fading as she turned to the slamming bathroom door. Green eyes in a death glare as HG rounded the closet.

"I am not Peter," her hands raised in surrender as Myka stomped out of the bathroom.

"You of all people would know," Myka sighing as she reached for the terry cloth robe.

"Me of all people would what?" Helena saying as she sat down at the cheap faux wood table, perusing the in house menu. "A taste of Cajun would be apropos, Agent Bering?" Myka gripping onto the door jamb of the bathroom as her knees betrayed her body, her heart thumping at a million miles as innocent brown eyes fluttered up at her.

"Is this retaliation for hours of me dragging us to antiquated museums?" Myka asked as she gathered her shampoo and soap.

"Not at all!" Helena retorted as she closed the laptop on the cheap desk. "I am not Peter, Agent Bering. I did so enjoy our sojourn to those museums." Helene's eyes downcast as she nodded to the bathroom. "Your sauna awaits, yes, Agent Bering?"

Myka rolled her eyes as she turned," But do not forget that you are much more than Pete," her shoulders flinching as the door to the bathroom shut.

"I shan't," Helena replied more to herself then Myka as she waited for her turn to use the shower. Since her un-bronzing, HG had become enamored with those newfangled shower stalls. While she waited her turn.

 **XXX**

"Anything of interest, Agent Bering?" Helena asked. After a few indulgent minutes enjoying the modern art of indoor plumbing in this new century, Helena emerged from the small confines of the bathroom. Towel in hand as she halted her progress. The soft hues of silver, blue and gold from the sun rising through their bedroom window stole all thought and breath away.

Her jaw slack as she watched the faint hues dance between Mykas curls, highlighting the warmth of autumn browns with hints of gold. Her fingers stilling, head tilted to the side from drying her hair as she watched the beautiful agent perched on the window sill. The soft mists of steam tracing over the most heavenly lips she had ever witnessed.

"Humm? What was that HG?" Myka's eyes trained on the empty streets below them as lush, full lips gently blew away the offending steam from that cup of coffee cradled in those long, strong fingers.

" _My kingdom to trade in place of that mug_ ," Helena mumbled as she approached the bay window, careful to leave just the right amount of proper space from the younger woman as she sat down.

"And that rare, morning grin, I deduce, from the burnt smell of water is not the culprit?" Helena commented with a cheeky grin.

"What?" Myka asked, her words fading as fast as any coherent thought as she watched Helena tilt her head toward the morning warmth of the sun's rays streaming in from the window sill. "There is a blow dryer in the bottom left drawer …" her voice fading as fast as her retracting her outstretched arm that was pointing to the bathroom.

Which, of course, Helena ignored. Opting to further engage their morning conversation. With her head tilted to the side, Helena gave a tight grin. "There are merits to producing dry locks before said inventions," her smile coy as she watched the younger agent repress a choked cough as Helena threaded her fingers through her sun-drying locks.

"Notice anything different down on the street?" Myka squaring her shoulders in a desperate, Hail Mary effort to steel her resolve as she tore her eyes away from said, dark locks, nodding to the street below them.

"A hoarded recreation of the alleyways of 1800 London before underground sewer systems?" Helena tossing the smartass quip over her shoulder as she gather her outfit for the day's hunt.

"Something like that," Myka sighed as she stood up, matching the older woman's moves in the cramped closet, settling on a light, brown leather jacket. Watching the older woman fluff out a light blue linen button up.

"The streets are clear of revelers," Myka halting her thoughts as she caught brown eyes following every inch as her fingers zipped up the ankle high boots.

"Meaning?" was the only coherent word to escape those ruby lips, Helena's sharp-witted mind escaping her for a brief second as she watched those strong fingers zip up those black leather boots, repressing her view of those sensuous ankles.

"Meaning, Wells." Myka was saying as she stuffed the Farnsworth into the tight rear pocket of her black jeans, turning to gather static bags and a map of the city she now was stuffing in her leather jacket.

"Issue?" her words halting, her hands frozen with the half job of slipping her Farnsworth into her back pocket, eyebrows raised as Helena turned from the closet. Green eyes lost on the slow button of white ivory clasps on that light blue, linen shirt, never seeing the quick flash of gold in dark eyes.

"My deduction," Helena started to say, turning away from the stunning sight before her. "We have exhausted all proper means." Helena now sitting down to pull on her brown leather boots, grateful for the release from that prison of green. "And in the wise words of your partner, Agent Lattimer …"

"Don't say it," Myka whispered as she watched her knuckles turn white from the death grip on the hotel door. "Porn shops?" she sighed out as her head softly thumped against the closed door.

"Logic would dictate that as our next avenue of exploration, Agent Bering, would to venture other options," Myka then turning around at the slight glee she perceived in the older woman's voice.

Myka bit her bottom lips as she raised her eyes to meet Helena's. Her hands rising in surrender.

"None of the curators would fess up to a private collection, so, yes." Myka sighed as she rubbed the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. A grimace and frown of her brow painted her face as she stepped back, holding the door open for her fellow agent.

XXX

"Aces," Helena remarked as she rested her back against the lift, Myka throwing a frown as she punched the lobby button, multiple times. "During my time, such Shoppe's were candlesti, kept hush hush." Helena quickly bending her head down as she crossed her arms, not wishing to torture the younger woman any further. Myka's hesitance and prudish blush in the room earlier only reinforced Helena's theory of the deep seated, sexual repression from the agent.

During Helena's foyer in the 1800's, all of her female conquests were, well, to be honest, demure and lacking. The last woman, Helena had sworn no more " _none shall I be a teacher no more. I have tired of soft, diminutive whispers of repression, not an ounce more of teaching residing in her, of here, more, harder"_

Helena sighed as she thought upon that first meeting with the young agent, ' _'finally, an equal worthy of me'_ But of the lingering months, the longing looks, the subtle touches amounting to cold, lonely frustrations cried softly into the night by her own hand.

"Interviews," Myka's voice pulling Helena out of her revere, shaking her head, grateful for the reprieve of long ago thoughts she had once repressed while in the bronze.

"And where shall we start?" Helena asking as she shrugged her black leather jacket on, her mind wondering off to the 'so called' interviews she and McShane had conducted while in the employ of warehouse 12. Those of which involving brass knuckles and days of soaking the crimson stains from her clothes.

"No cloak and dagger from your times," Myka turning, unclipping the mag from her gun, checking all was loaded as she slapped the full magazine back into her gun. Helena jumping as Myka loaded the chamber with a harsh draw and click as the chamber was loaded.

"Myka?" Helena half choked as she stepped back from the tall agent, watching with a hint of sadness as Myka tucked her firearm behind her jacket, tugging lightly on her belt to make sure her gun was secure.

Myka turned in time to catch the down trodden shadow leaving Helena's face at the sight of her gun.

"Better to err on the side of caution," Myka giving a half smile as she adjusted her brown leather jacket to hide her firearm. "You okay?" Myka was starting to ask as she raised her hand to grip Helena's shoulder. Her face falling as she watched Helena pull back from her touch.

"I have done countless interviews with this damn thing presses against my kidney," Myka never looking up as she gathered their notes, stuffing them in the leather backpack. "With the Secret Services and the Warehouse," a small smile forming as she slung the leather bag over her shoulder.

"Besides, you have the best toys," Myka grinning as she started to turn the handle of their room door open.

"What?" Helena rushed her breath almost as fast as her hand to stop Myka from opening the door. "I never once shoot a firearm and implored Caturanga to insist on all agents use Tesla's instead of those dreadful things," Helena now blocking the door with her body. "I relished in a good interrogation, letting the prey trap themselves in their own misgivings." her voice fading as her eyes traced around to the back of Myka's jacket.

"The Tesla was, is your security, just as your grappler, yes?" Myka now raising a tentative hand, letting it rest on the bulge of Helena's jacket. "Just as my service weapon is mine," her head bent, a light touch of her finger under Helena's jaw, raising her face, needing, wanting to make eye contact.

"Between the two of us, we must have logged over 10,000 interviews, right?" Myka's eyes crinkled, repressing a knowing smile as she watched Helena's face register the words, the almost smell of that brilliant mind working to solve this puzzle.

"Stop placating me, Agent Bering," Helena huffed after a few short ticks, the agent repressing the smile as she watched the golden flecks of perception in those Mahogany eyes. "Give me those bloody files whilst you drive us to our first interrogation," Helena trying her utmost to retain her front as they rode the lift to the parking garage.

"Coffee and or Tea before we hit our first place?" Myka asking as she drove down Jackson square. "I am assuming that 'The Spice of Life" will open after noon?" Myka clenching the leather grip on the rented SUV, her knuckles turning white as she transverse the local parking garage down in the seeder part of town.

"I thought the retail district was this way?" Helena frowning as Myka pulled her in the opposite direction.

"Interview first," Myka nodding as she held open the small, non-descript door, ushering Helena in with her eyes. Helena stopped mid-entrance, crossing her arms as if a petulant child summoned to the dentist.

"The first victim's family owns this coffee shop," Myka whispered, her hand placed on the small of Helena's back as she ushered them both inside at to the front counter.

Helena's eyes wondered, just as the agent she was trained to be, an annoying sigh escaping her lips as Myka ordered English breakfast tea for the both of them, her then giving a wink and nod to the far wall of the place as she waited for their Benoit's to be cooked.

Helena walked the length of the small, run down place, her arms cinching tighter around her waist as she looked at the penciled in marks on the side of the wall.

"Children?" Helena asking, nodding her thanks for the steaming cup of Earl Grey Myka had handed her. She remembered as she would pencil mark Christine's growth from month to month on the side jamb of their Loo.

"No, Cherie," the owner casting her head down as she rolled out another batch of the sweet tweets.

"Flood levels?" Myka asking, her one hand pulling Helena away from the wall, her head nodding thanks for the coffee the owner switched out. "Chickery" Myka asking as she set the steaming cup of tea in front of Helena, her brow furring as if to say 'stay put'.

"You have the palate," the owner saying as she pulled their breakfast from the deep fryer. Helena arching a brow as powdered sugar was dusted over the pillowy treats. Myka never sat down, pacing and observing the place as their breakfast was made.

Helena shrugged her shoulders as she watched Myka near the counter, the young woman's hand, coffee in place, gestured to her companion in the lone table near the marks. Myka paid, an extra twenty placed in the woman's hand.

"Really?" Helena staged whispered to Myka after the young agent sat down, fluffing a napkin and then settling it in her lap. "Such a huge price to pay, for theses?" Helena wrinkling her nose as she tentatively nibbled at the powder treat.

"Water marks," Myka said in monotone voice as she wiped her fingers on the napkin from the powdered sugar, then sipping her coffee with Chicory as she waited for Helena's questions.

"The markings where once from her grandchild, " Helena following the forefinger Myka was using to point as she held her cup. "And?" the sinking feeling of dread was clawing just under her facade, her eyes darting to the owner, only a small nod was had between the women.

"The water marks show how high the flood waters came, surpassing her grandson's height as Hurricane Katrina hit," Myka looking over the rim of her cup toward Helena. "Marcus Leflore?" Myka whispered, trying to help Helena connect the dots. "Her only grandson survived the storm, only to be ripped away from her last month."

"The first victim reported," Myka sighed, watching as Helena finished off her tea.

"And you think because of our mutual loss, she may be more forthcoming with details?" Helena rapidly controlling her words, trying to keep pace with the cooling of her tea.

Myka hated herself for this, trying and gaining no information as she skipped around the details of the woman's grandson death, her last card to play, hoping HG might open, just a sliver, to the desperate woman.

"You owe me a 30 year aged bottle of Scotch, and will drink with me," Helena mumbled as she swallowed the last of the cold tea. "And for the record," she was saying. "Never, ever, play that grieve card, my Christian, against me.' Helena whispering into the cold, empty cup.

Myka's eyed exploded in wide disbelief, almost choking on her last swig of coffee, "Helena, I would never …" Helena was starting to back away until cool, long fingers covered her own, pulling Helena's shaking form close to Myka.

"Do you have a fag?" Helena asking as she stood from the table, turning when she had not received a reply. Rolling her eyes at the jaw drop of her fellow agent, "A cigarette?" Myka still stunned as she watched Helena raced out the back door, trailing the owner.

 **XXX**

Myka tried to repress the stale odor of cigarettes as they drove down the road, rolling her shoulders to try and relieve her stress. Sitting at the light, waiting for it to turn green into the non-descript shopping center, Myka sighed as she rolled down her window. "Never pegged you for a smoker," Myka chided, turning into the plaza as the light turned green.

"Smoking such things did not raise the err as such with the modern woman of today," Helena replied, eyes focused on the names of the small businesses passing them by, very aware of the glare cast upon her.

"And here we are," Myka said as she shifted the SUV in park, her fingers drumming on the steering wheel, trying to control her breathing as she could not but help the erotic display in the window before them affecting her.

"Got another Fag?" Myka glamping her lips shut at her words, praying the struggle with her seatbelt was enough of a distraction.

"Maybe, if you play your cards right, Agent Bering." Helena was now letting all her pretenses go, her door closed as she leaned against the display of lace underwear on the other side of the glass display.

Myka just nodded her thanks as Helena held the lighter, not admitting to being entranced from the flame that highlighted those flecks of gold in green eyes.

After watching Myka snuff out the cigarette, only after two puffs, she held the door open, then gently guiding Myka to the front window display case. "Is that for sale?" Helena asking the young stoned out front clerk.

"Nah, man. Just some old strap on thing the boss has on display to get freaks to come in."

Myka and Helena gave a quick glance at each other, no words needed. "So where are the vibrators?" Myka asking, needing to get out of the stoner boys view while she snapped on her gloves.

"Darling, be a love and make sure it has battery's?" Helena then giving a faux smile to the young man as Myka rounded the corner of the shop, "So? Anything 'spark' your interest, baby?"

"Not in a million years," Helena grumbled under her breath, following the path Myka had gone down. Her eyes widen at such an eclectic selection. "Myka, be a dear and see if that phallic is indeed our artifact?" Helena asking as she perused the shelf of toys, a low sigh of relief as Myka made her way to the display case.

"Young man? Of which three do you find superior" Helena asking as she distracted the young clerk, watching as Myka bagged the phallic strap behind the man from the display case. Her eyes blinking as sparks flew, her fingers cupping the jaw of the young man, turning him away from the going ons.

"Wrap this up for me," was the last, clear thought Helena remembered as she watched Myka tilt her head, curly locks obscuring the concerned look as Myka stared at the hole burnt in her purple glove after bagging the artifact.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 **A/N A little back-tracking to fill in the 'glaring' holes in the last chapter. No Beta, so all mistakes are mine and mine alone. Updates will take longer seeing as health + hospital = no time for a week or so.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing of Syfy and mature themes ahead.**

* * *

Helena waited, her eyes glancing every so often to the tall agent at the display case, then asking for the worthless clerk to check the inventory in the back of the store. "Please be a dear and see if this comes in flesh tone?" Helena had said, swallowing hard at her own inappropriate thoughts as she watched the clerk go to the back of the stock room. She knew she needed a distraction, for a short reprieve as Myka stood stock still, the artifact gripped tight in her gloved hand that was now shaking as it hovered over the stand it was once placed upon.

"Claudia requested a picture?" Helena softly placing her hand on the rigid forearm of the taller agent. "Myka?" Helena whispered softly as she guided the agent's hand, placing the phallic back on to the display stand.

"What?" was all that was said from Myka? Her green eyes now a darker shade as she slowly turned to the shorter woman. Helena swallowed down the lump in her throat; the stranger now reflected in those eyes caused her to take a step back.

"We need a photograph, Agent Bering?" Helena gently squeezing the agent's arm, watching as a quick flash of green came back to those eyes. "To duplicate?"

"Right … yeah," Myka's unsure voice became stronger with each word as she set the phallic back down on the display case, reaching for her phone to snap a picture.

"Did you want glow in the dark?" every word of the annoying clerk grated at Helena's resolve. Her only concern was the effect of the artifact on her fellow agent. Her never letting show the worry and concern for this woman she had now felt more for. MacShane was a right sot she could care less about, but Myka … her dear, sweet Myka.

"No you sot… flesh tone if you please?" Helena barely able to speak out in her most repressed tone, then turning swiftly back to the agent, her hand already digging through the soft leather jacket to search for the 'smart phone'. "If you please?" Helena was asking, trying her best to mask the urgent worry in her tone. "A picture for our young genius?"

The interview with the grieving mother had racked Helena's nerves, grateful that the woman had given them the name of this cesspool for a lead, but to watch the effects of this artifact cloud over those bright green eyes was almost her breaking point. Her palm itched from the last missing piece of her plan to rid this horrid earth of all the pain and heartlessness this world was so screaming for.

But Helena knew she must solve this puzzle and help Myka find peace before the end.

 **XXX**

"The Marquis De Sade was a man before his time." Helena saying as she watched Myka down the second dozen of those dreadful mollusks;

Helena could not refuse the hard pull as Myka guided them into the small Oyster shop earlier. "We can send those pictures to Claudia so Artie can duplicate it." Myka was saying when she halted them just in front of the shop. The immediate history of the Sade from the files they had read came racing back as Helena side-eyed the many customers enjoying the slimy treats. She then losing herself as Myka held the chair out for her at the small table in the back of the restaurant.

"May I?" Helena had asked, pointing to the phone Myka had placed on the table.

"After I order for us," the briskness and pointed tone with a slight hint of a French accent caused her shoulders to shudder. She gave a slight smile as Myka handed the phone over to her, her eyes in a quest to send the pictures to Claudia, ignoring the flirtations from Myka as she ordered for them both. Helena queuing in on the order that excluded butter, sauces or red meat, Myka opting for the raw mollusks and a platter of vegetables.

"Claudia says we should receive the duplicate within twenty four hours and to hang 'tough' or whatever that means?" Helena was saying as she nodded her thanks for the glass of clear, crisp wine the waiter set down in front of them both. Myka just grunted as she downed the whole glass of wine, followed by the inhalation of the dozen oysters set before them. Her fork smacking lightly on the front of Helena's hand as she reached for the fried order in front of them.

"Wench, take these back," Myka said as she held out the basket of fried fritters.

"Myka!" Helena staged whispered, her eyes wide at the rudeness she had never been witness to from the young woman. The young woman looking up, slurping an oyster down as a never seen before look crossed her face.

"You will not beqwith such reckless with your health with such disregard," Myka then sitting back as she dabbed her cheeks with the napkin. "That is only reserved for me," in a heavy French accent. Myka's eyes then widen over the rim of her glass of wine, her hand shaking at the foreign words escaping her lips.

"Besides the other …" Helena said as she raised her hand, waving their server over for the tab.

"Please, enlighten me?" Myka said as she finished the last of the oysters, Helena then leaning forward to wipe the last bit of liquor from the side of her lip. Myka then swiftly grabbing Helena's wrist as she sat a bit upright at the tight pain of the grip. "You wish more?"

"Myka, are you still there?" Helena whispered, her one free finger brushing just under the jaw of the younger woman. Myka nodded as she swallowed hard.

"As you know from the files, the Sade was a stickler for healthy eating, an innovator before his time."

Helena just nodded, busying herself with the plastic card in the folds of her wallet, a grim smile to the young woman who rang them up. "Yes, my darling. He touted the benefits of a healthy lifestyle. His proclivity toward shellfish and non-sauce. No red meat or breads or butter if I remember correctly?" Helena trying desperately to run her one free finger along the jawline of the younger agent. Her knowing that this strong woman was trying with all her might to fight off the effects of this artifact.

 **XXX**

"How much time?" Myka asked as she closed the hotel room door behind them. Her back pressed against it, willing herself to not step further.

"Twenty two hours before we receive the duplicate from Claudia," Helena sighed as she let her bag drop to the floor. She raised her hands as Myka flinched against door, her watching as the young agent curled her hands into balls. The slow drip of blood down the agents wrists from clinching too hard made Helena step back.

"Maybe I should call the front desk for another room?" Helena was saying as she picked up the phone, her mistake was turning her back as she made that call.

Flashes of that night were a blur to Helena, her front being pushed onto the bed, her moans stifled as firm teeth bit the fleshy thickness of her shoulder from behind, a firm finger pressing between her lips as she threw her head back as the cold of the air-conditioner hit her bare thighs after her jeans were ripped from her body.

The one clear thought she remembered was a slight reprieve, salted tears dripping on her dry lips as the world stop spinning. Her breasts stung from the heated abuse she had pleaded for as teeth raked over them. Her thighs slick with the desire she begged for, the tip of that ivory phallic then tickled her wet folds.

"Myka, please be my Myka?" her hands clasped against fiery mouton cheeks, the heat burning against her palms as harsh hips stilled against the frantic thrusts of pelvic bones as her legs quivered from the pain when she had wrapped them so tightly around Myka's stilled hips.

"Helena?" was the last shred of _'her'_ Myka, before the pain and ecstasy overtook her body. Small flashes of the porn store, of exchanging the artifact blurred her vision. It had taken two nights before receiving the fake phallic to replace the true artifact. Every night was a blur to both Helena and Myka as the older woman would give a small whimper as the younger pulled out handcuffs, silk scarfs, or whatever was near to bind Helena to the rungs of the bed. Helena let out a heated yelp as Myka ripped the bedside lamp away on the second night, the cord held tight between her hands as she stalked her way on the bed, Helena feeling the depression from Myka's knees as she stalked her.

Helena shot up, pressing her hand between those breasts. The hard feel of that sternum bone pressing against her fingers.

"Wait!"

Helena exclaimed, her then twisting around to the night stand, Helena knowing what was to come, playing into the effect of the artifact was her ecstasy, and her worry was how Myka would react after the bag. She shook her head, knowing the seasoned agent would understand the effects of being 'whammied' and the price Helena paid to help her deal with it. Or so she hoped, either way, Helena was gaining insight and pleasure from this.

On a few secluded wonders through the aisles of Warehouse 12, Helena had stumbled upon a Phallic or two, resisting the urge to run her fingers over the smooth ivory, wondering if the ecstasy out-weighted the draw back. One night, when all that was to be heard was the scurrying of the rats through the aisles, Helena sank back against the shelf of AA 269. Wrenching her hand back from the temptations of such pornographic artifacts. Her heart and eye drawn to the many phallic 'toys' of the 'Virgin' Queen in her hey-day. Helena had always been the aggressor with the women of her time, her deep yearning buried in the soft folds, wishing for a strong woman to _'take her'_.

"Make me beg for my pleasure" her own deep-seated yearning held buried to her heart until that day at Atlas house, when that _'Amazon'_ held her at gunpoint.

Helena was more than a willing participant, her desire meeting her secret wishes, her heart swelling when she saw the burned hole in Myka's glove. Her grin growing as Myka threaded her fingers through her silken hair, watching as she strapped the black leather harness around the younger woman's hips.

The first night was a nervous fright as Helena succumbs to the effects of the artifact that drove Myka to the brink of sadism. Never in her wildest fantasies had anything come so close. She knew she had to fight her desire if she was to alleviate any of the effect of the artifact. By the second night, her body was humming from the anticipation of what was to come.

"You are mine," Myka moaned as she lifted Helena's legs up, placing each one on either side of her shoulder, kissing against Helena's ankles as she smiled, "This will hurt."

" _I hope so,_ " Helena whispered to herself, thrusting her hips to take in the oversized phallic.

"As I am yours," Helena groaned out as Myka pressed closer to her with her body, her hands cupping Myka's cheeks as her legs spread widered. Myka thrusting deeper with each press closer, Helena running her hands over firm arm muscles as Myka rested her weight on her arms, hands pressing the mattress down on either side of Helena's head.

"You will not remember this, my Sade." Helena whispered next to Myka's ear as her young agent pressed her full weight down on the time traveler. Helena's head thrown back, stifling her screams of pain and pleasure from absorbing the full brunt of the induced artifact.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 **A/N Sorry for the delay, health and real life issues are interfering with timely updates. This is my most daring B &W, sex wise. Strapons and rough sex peppered throughout the chapter. I have given fair warning.**

* * *

Helena smiled, kissing the crown of curls, her hand stilling in the blaring Farnsworth, eyes drifting to dark hazel, her head giving a slight bow as her hand hovered over the obnoxious device blaring away.

"May I?" Helena asked, her eyes rising at the low reply of yes in old French

"Talk to me!" Artie's voice rough and demanding as he shouted into the old device.

"And a good morning to you too Artimus. And for the record, I am only taking harsh commands from one, artifact induced agent. So please be kind enough to lower that harsh tone when addressing me Arthur." Helena turned away at the last of her words, grabbing at the sharp pain radiating across the small of her back.

"Geezes, HG! Are you alright?" Helena gave a faint twitch of a smile as the young girl filled the black and white screen. "I mean, I know Mykes got whammied and all when the artifact burnt a hole in her glove." Claudia turned her head, checking that the old man was preoccupied with charts and files. "What have you done to help her, I mean you two have had eye sex and all, but did you, I mean did Myka force you…?" Clearing her throat, whispering as she leant closer to the screen.

"My dear girl," Helena giving a faint chuckle as she ran her fingers through her hair, "No, we have not used the said artifact physically, but a fine substitute was had. Remember darling, the Sade was about control, of rewarding servitude with pleasure." Helena turned at the commanding voice, all Myka's words now in old world French, Helena giving a submissive bow as Myka patted her thighs, demanding the woman to sit on her lap.

"I have to go now, Myka … I mean the Sade is demanding my attention. Be a dear and try to find out the longevity of the effects of this curiosity. Text me when you have some Intel. Until then, I find myself the submissive to her whims. Cheers Darling."

"Old man, we need to find something fast!" Claudia squeezing out her words as she spun around in her chair, clamping the Farnsworth shut. "I do not know how much longer HG can hold out and we both know Mykes will be …"

"Agent Bering will be what, Agent Donovan? "The sudden voice of the caretaker causing both Artie and Claudia to gasp at the sudden sound of her voice.

"Umm, hold on," Artie was saying, one pudgy finger rose as he shifted through the musty pages on his desk.

"Ms Donovan?" Claudia gulping down as the caretaker addressed her. "How many hours left until the effects of the artifact wear away from Agent Bering?"

"Not quite sure of the time line on that … thing," Claudia blushing as she clacked away on her keyboard. "Mykes is in full on French mode and HG is trying her best to help and you know," Claudia saying as she spun her chair, not giving a crap about the glare the caretaker was giving her. "The best we have come up with is, and with HG's suggestion, is to alleviate the sexy Dom things going on in Myka. HG said that when they first did ...you know what, Myka's temp went down and she seemed to relax. The longer HG avoided any … you know, the S and M stuff, the more agitated Myka became."

Claudia blew a grateful sigh, a shock of red hair blowing up and around her face as she turned back to her computer screen. "HG has said she was willing to take one for the team," Claudia doing her best to repress the quirk of her lips as she stared at her screen.

"Agent Neilson, I am to assume you are on top of things?' Mrs Frederic asked as she turned her attention over to the portly man.

"More like Mykes on top," Claudia mumbling under her breath with a lopsided grin.

"Something you wish to add Ms Donovan?" the caretaker crossing her arms over the perfect pink tweed jacket, her black, horn rimmed glasses sliding an iota down her nose.

"No, kind of, Yes!" Claudia feeling her boldness rising as she turned, looking the old caretaker in the eye. "I am so sick of everyone putting HG down" her finger then waging at Artie as he stopped mid-stride, old yellow parchment clutched between portly fingers.

The was a dead silence, two sets of brown eyes burning into hers. "I get HG is not to be trusted after the whole ' _I want to blow up the world' thing._ " her arms raised, fingers flailing in the air. "But come on, HG put herself out there, enduring God's only know torture at the hands of a bastard freak who has whammied Myka." her hand raising up to halt the arguments from the two old farts in the room.

"HG is having to endure God knows pain and whatever to help Myka fight the whammy effects and according to our Intel, whips and chains are in her future for the next seven days!"

"And your point Ms Donovan?" the caretaker squaring her shoulders as she faced her young aprintess.

"From what we know, the … sex desire thing has to be sated to keep Myka from going off the deep end and HG is there, taking care of ...said needs. Why the hell would HG do that if she did not give a rat's ass about the warehouse?" Claudia lowered her head, her eyes raised to the two elders in the room. "I mean, for Christ sake Artie, at least spring for a better room for them then that dump you have them holed up in. I mean, if I was HG, there had better be paid room service and a big ass jet tub to sooth me after ten rounds with Myka."

Artie coughed, dropping the old parchment papers as he rounded his desk, "Kiddo, this is an adult thing and both of them know what they are getting into and I will be damned before I shell out any more money for some love fest …" Artie's voice raising with each word he spoke.

"Agent Neilson, Arthur. I believe our young Ms Donovan as a valid point. See to the arrangements for our team."

"What? You are letting this kid dictate the over cost …" Artie's voice faded as he turned to the now empty spot the caretaker had occupied.

"Not a kid, old man." Claudia smirked as she turned back to her computer. "Besides, would you want to be stuck in some dump with Myka whammied?"

"This is wrong!" Artie yelled to the wall. "I am not running some bordello for my agents!" Artie deflated his words and body as he leaned against his desk. "Myka is like a daughter to me and the thought of that woman …" his head bowed, removing his glasses from his face. He pulled a corner of his wrinkled shirt out, rubbing the lens as he turned a side glance toward Claudia.

"Find and reserve a hotel, off season rates!" he huffed as he held his glasses up to the fluorescent lights, checking for any blurs on the lens. "And sex toys are coming out of their pocket."

"Rouoatoh!" Claudia mumbled as she found a four star hotel nearest the sex shop. Booking a single suite with all the bells and whistles for the two agents. She tapped her fingers on the top of the brass Farnsworth, waiting for Helena to respond.

"Moi Cherie," Myka had whispered after patting her thigh, her frown growing as it took longer than her patience allowed for Helena to hang up the brass device.

"Vous devrez payer pour votre disobience," Myka whispered next to the shell of Helena's ear after the woman had straddled her lap, placing her weight on her arms and hands that gripped the top of the chair Myka was sitting in.

"My darling," Helena's words cut by the sharp pain of Myka's teeth clamping down on her earlobe. Myka gripped Helena's hand, pushing it against the inside of her left thigh.

"Play time?" Helena asked, her fingers running along the length of the phallic, hidden just under the rough press of Myka's jeans. Myka grinned as she forcible guided Helena down to rest her knees on the thin Berber carpet of the cheap motel. Helena sat back on her heels, her eyes held prisoner by an off shade of green. Never looking down, never breaking eye contact as the low sound of the brass zipper reverberated around the room.

Myka gripped Helena's wrists, nodding for her to sit back, as Helena tried to turn her head, two strong fingers gripped her chin, tilting her head up to watch as Myka finished unzipping her jeans, a lopsided grin spreading as she watched Helena unconsciously lick her bottom lip, her hands rubbing away the perspiration on the flat of her jean-covered thighs.

Myka leaned back, her legs spreading apart, hooking her ankles around the legs of the chair as Helena leaned up, and steadying herself on the rough feel of Myka's jean-covered thighs. Myka smiled, her fingers brushing a few stray black locks behind Helena's ear, her thumb grazing over the smooth cheek as Helena tilted her head more into Myka's touch as the older woman released the phallic just trapped under the unzipped jeans.

Helena rested her cheek on the side of Myka's thigh, the roughness from the denim a welcome distraction to all the thoughts invading her head. She so wished their first time would be under mutual love. Not some damn curiosity. Helena sighed as she felt Myka's fingers tangle in her hair, the soft ministrations of short, trimmed nails gently scraping at the base of her neck, a slight pressure and pull of her head up caused her to sigh and rest her cheek onto of the protrusion just peeking out of its imprisonment.

 _Helena had never shied away from new and inventive things as she bed her lovers back in London, her first turn at using a strap on, to her surprise, was an elder gentleman with a proclivity toward the exotic. She was introduced to the small, private shops that specialized in such proclivities by her gentleman caller._

 _Her first turn with a woman was quite unexpected, an unusually long hunt for a curiosity in Paris lead to a month long heated affair with a lady of the night. Helena had found Giselle, beaten and left for dead as she and MacShane rounded an alleyway, losing their suspect in the dense fog of that warm summer evening._

" _Go, return to our quarters. I shall retrace our path," Helena had said in a louder than normal voice, patting Mac Shane on the back as she ushered him out of the ally. Her senses picked up on the low moans of someone in pain as they had rounded the corner, knowing their quarry had already eluded their grasp._

" _No Miss, I am not worth your time," the young Blonde protesting as Helena tended to her wounds, making the younger lean her weight on her side as she slowly guided them toward a nearby boarding house._

" _We do not take her kind," the old woman huffed, crossing her arms she eyed the two women, knowing the one was of well-bred stock, the other …"_

" _Well, mistress, do you take my kind?" Helena let the girl rest her weight on her side, her other hand taking out a leather purse, jingling the coins in front of the old woman's face. Helena watched as bony, arthritic fingers dug into the leather, biting at the gold piece._

" _No gentlemen callers, or you are both out on your bums!" the older yelling up to them, Helena just able to guide them to the small room at the end of the hall. She set the girl down on the small, one bed room, sighing grateful at the pitcher and bowl of water setting on the small dresser._

" _Stay put," she said, her hands then gripping either side of the bloody face. "I shall return shortly, and believe my words, if you are not here when I return. I shall hunt you down myself." the one open blue eye not swollen shut, widen in fear. "Good girl, just rest, you are safe in my charge," Helena said turning to catch the crass innkeeper._

" _One day, I shall return the feel," the horse voice softly said, Helena stilling her hand on the dull brass knob, detecting a hint of ...something in that voice._

Helena was lost in her thoughts, pleasuring Myka as she ignored the screaming pain of the cheap, thin carpet under her knees. She flicked her eyes open, turning to look upon golden green as Myka bucked her hips, her hands gripping either side of Helena's face. Her thumb brushing against the moist corner of Helena's lip wrapped around the phallic, her head lulling back at shear ecstasy at the contrast of warm lips against silicon.

Myka gently pulled Helena up, a soft pop causing her to grin as she stared through half hooded eyes, her hand making slow, languid strokes up and down as she spoke, "Prenez votre pantalon,mais laisser votre chemise" then nodding to her hand stroking the phallic.

"You wish me on top?" Helena grinned as she unbuttoned her blouse.

"Oui" Myka said, licking her lips as Helena slowly unbuttoned her jeans, her hand slowing in pace with the shimmy of Helena sliding out of her jeans. Helena looked at Myka as she hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her silk blue underwear, waiting for the finally nod from the curly haired woman.

"I love you, my Darling." Helena whispered near Myka's ear, knowing Myka did not understand English as she was under the control of the artifact, Helena gasped as Myka bucked her hips up, fingers digging into her hip bones, not yet ready for the deep thrusts. Helena had squeezed Myka shoulder just before, enjoying the feel of the smooth head gently lapping at her wet outer folds.

Myka's brow furrowed as she increased her heated thrusts, knuckles white at the intense grip on Helena's hips, off green eyes stalked the single bead of sweat ebbing slowly between heaving breasts. The sharp dig of blunt nails into her shoulders caused her to lift up, hands gripping at the perfect ass. Myka smiled as those bare feet were lifted off the cheap carpet, wrapping like a vice around her hips as she increased her thrusts.

Helena wrapped her arms around Myka's neck, holding on for dear life as Myka thrusted her hips deeper into her. "More, Darling," her words a heated groan escaping as Myka fell to her knees, gently laying Helena down on the floor, her thrusts becoming hard and erratic, deep and desperate.

"Merde!" Myka cursed as the loud blare of the Farnsworth broke the soft moans filling the room.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

* * *

 **A/N This is the wrap-up for the story. Thank you to all for this indulgence. No Beta so all mistakes are mine.**

* * *

"What the hell was that?" Pete gritting through his teeth as he gripped Helena's arm. "You bolting when things get ' _too real_ '. His fingers looping in mock as Helena steeled her dark as night gaze on the agent.

"Do not speculate on things which you have no privy to Agent Lattimer," Helena hissed through gritted teeth, yanking her arm free of the grip from the man-child. "Myka and I have a …" her words falling flat as she ascended the stairs.

"A what HG?" his arms thrown to the retreating form of the agent that was once his strong, beat you up, take no prisoners, sugar hating partner. Both watching as Myka tossed her book on the floor behind her back as she raced up the stairs, two rungs at a time, something she would have never done in a million years. Helena leaned back against the wood rail, arms crossed in defiance as both sets of eyes watched the tall agent whisk by them.

Minds on different planes, Pete worrying his bottom lip as a blur rushed by him, all the days since they had gotten back. Not a word between them.

"You think I am amused by this, Agent Lattimer?" her grit and disdain filling the small space of the B&B.

"I ...ummm," Pete unable to reply as all the blood rushed to his head. His one hand feeling as it arched around the now empty room. "I could not even fathom the things you had to do, heck, wammies being what they are but …" his head bowed, eyes digging a hole into the wood plank floor as he extended his hand to the elder woman.

"Ray Charles could see how Mykes has been avoiding you like the dark plaque." Pete whispered as he astutely studied his feet. "Hell, you two have been in orbit since you both have come home from that last snag, bag and tag." his boyish grin fading at the grim frown on Helena's lips. "But!" Pete slapping his hands together as he mock grinned at Helena. "AT least you got your groove on?" his head bouncing from side to side as he snapped his fingers together. "Hey!" his voice fading as Helena slowly traversed each rung up the stairs, never looking back.

"Neanderthal," Helena said over her shoulder as she ascended the rungs.

Helena's rapping of her knuckles were sure and swift, biting her bottom lip as she crossed her arms around her waist, taking a step back from the old oak door, awaiting some reply, any reply what so ever from the goddess she yearned for, nary, ached for within the depths of her bones.

Seconds felt like eons as she waited for some semblance, of any stirring from behind the closed door

xxx

The layover in Chicago was child's play in emotions and the feeling helplessness compared to the torture she once endured in Hong Kong.

Myka had not said a word after the effects of the artifact has worn off. Their flight to Rapid City was delayed, hence the layover in the windy city.

Helena, by chance, and a pray to whatever Gods would listen, gripped the elbow of the younger agent as they settled into the stiff back chairs of the airport. "I forgo any response for my actions with the utmost regard as to the well being of yourself from the …"

"Don't," the word barely a whisper as the younger woman gently pulled her arm away. "I am so ashamed …"

"You have nothing to be ashamed of, my heart would never let you suffer," her words fading as she gently thumbed away the stray tear cascading down that perfect cheek."You have saved me countless times and this but a hump over the heart," her words lightly brushing the shell of Myka's ear, near as she pressed her words, her body, her soul, as close as she could.

"If …" Helena leaned back, her eyes dancing as they were met by questioning green. "Say, by chance, if the leather was reversed?"

"Go on," was but a mere wisp of words as Myka settled back in her chair, arms crossed tightly around her twisting gut.

"If the roles were reversed ...?" Helena letting her words trail down to a utter of a whisper. Not daring to look up at Myka.

"You have any doubts within yourself that would let me succumb to death because of that damn artifact !?" Myka's harsh words caused Helena to snap her head up from the studious endeavor on her said concentration of the quick against her thumb nail. Helena felt herself sinking into that hideous plastic chair as sad, hurt filled eyes filled her vision. Helena just sighed and nodded a half agrement, her hair cascading as a curtain to hide the pain on her face.

"What hurts the most …" Myka stopping her words as she harshly raked the heel of her palm against the sting of salted tears on her cheek. Helena watching as Myka rubbed her hand against the soft denim of her knee-covered leg, Helena knowing the young woman was trying to steady her emotions as best she could.

"And what would that be, my darling?" Helena turning in that damn plastic chair in the middle of the concourse at O'Hare International.

"That I had this deluded dream, this romanticized idea that my … our first time would be on a rose-petal covered bed. Soft words of adoration and professions of love." Myka sniffed, rubbing her long sleeved shirt just under her nose. Myka gave a soft gulp of air as she watched Helena smile, a small, sheepish parting of lips as she felt cool, slender fingers brush gently along the side of her cheek.

"But I messed it all up," Myka's voice becoming a bitter rasp as she turned her head away from cool, forgiving fingertips.

"No, my love," was a faint whisper as Myka bolted up from those cheap, plastic seats in the middle of the concourse.

"I fucked it ...fucked us up." Myka said, her words coming through gritted teeth, harsh filled regret dripping from each word."I was such a whore, forcing myself on you and fucking up what slim chance we had between us," her words fading as she stormed off. Helena feeling helpless as she watched Myka march to the front of the line of waiting passengers. The TSA agent fumbling as Myka flashed her badge, demanding they board the next flight out of ' _this hell'._

Helena rushed to gather their bags as Myka brushed aside her power jacket, her side-arm just peaking out as Helena reached for Myka's elbow, guiding them past the flummoxed agent, bags in tow.

 _ONE WEEK LATER_

Nothing else was said for days after the return, even an impromptu pop-in from Mrs. F did not alleviate the growing tension that was now engulfing the B&B. The Warehouse not faring any better as it shot out purple bolts of discontentment whenever anyone dared to enter the aisles.

"Good googly, I am so over getting zapped on my back side when ever I go down there!" Claudia huffed, her hand placing the frozen bag of peas on her rear after raiding Artie's small refrigerator. Her eyes narrowing at the uncomfortable cough Steve was trying to cover up.

"Donovan!" Claudia hunching her shoulders as the old man stormed into the room. "Touch anything of mine again …" his tirade cut short by the loud thump of folders slamming on Artie's desk.

"I am done with inventory of aisles BB 200 through 900." Myka said, ignoring the jumps and almost heart attacks her entrance into Artie's office caused as she then placed her face near the retinal scan of the umbilicus door. "Heading to the inn." Myka saying in a monotone voice, the loud hiss of the seal from the door halting any response from the room.

"Yes, well. Good job Myka." Artie was sputtering out as he pushed his wire framed glasses up the bridge of his."Yes, take the rest of the day off," he mumbled as he spun around, then burying his head into the files Myka had slammed on his desk. Everyone's shoulders jumping up to their ears with the slam of umbilicus door behind the agent.

"Smooth there old man," Claudia mumbled, Helena's sudden appearance into the office causing all to look.

"Bollocks bollocks, BOLLOCKS!" the swear stopping all, Pete grabbed his stomach, lurching over as he moaned at the vibes that hit him.

"Who the bloody hell redesigned the purple neutralizer …" her words halting as Mrs. Fredric appeared before them all in the tiny space that was Artie's office.

"The Regents so upgraded the design, Agent Wells," Helena's mouth clamping shut as she tossed the gooed cover wrench down on Artie's desk.

"Yes, so be it." Helena was saying, her face twisting as her fingers tangled in a small pocket of goo that had attached itself to her hair. "I believe, even in my apprentice days in Warehouse 12 that the greenhorn was tasked with cleaning and flushing the pipes." her frown slowly ticking as she handed the goo-soaked wrench to Steve.

"Happy hunting Agent Jinks"

"Did Myka depart?" Helena was asking as she scrubbed her hands in the small sink, never looking up as she dug out the rest of the goo from under her fingernails.

"Has the power flashes stopped?" Steve asking as he frowned at the gooed covered wrench, side-eyeing Claudia as she squinted at the wrench in his hand.

"I beleive it shall be safe for you and our young Claudia to peruse the aisles to the 'Gooery' and for the life of me, haven't a clue as to why you so choose the endearment for the …" Helena saying as she frowned at the small drop of purple slim running down her finger after running her fingers through her hair.

"If I get zapped in the ass again …" Claudia was huffing as she followed behind Steve.

"I beleive it shall be safe for your backside seeing as Myka has departed and with my departure, you and Steven shall be safe." Helena was saying as she leaned in to the retinal scan, the door popping open with a small whoosh. "I feel the need for a ' _Silkwood_ ' shower is in order, goodnight all"

"Did she just make a modern movie reference?" Steve was asking as they both crept down the staircase toward the main floor of the warehouse.

"Don't look at me Steveo, something she may have picked up from her days of playing perfect house with the Beaver Cleaver family back in Boone."

"So not right and we all know that Claud. The damn vibes from all the denial almost knocked me over. So not wanting to go through that again and I think that is why the warehouse was going nuts with the power bolts when they both got back."

Claudia stopped in her tracks half way down the stairs, Steve letting out a loud yelp as he crashed into the back of the young girl. "Really? And not all the stuff with the Sade and the wammy and Myka freaking and HG shutting herself off having anything to do with the warehouse freaking out?!"

"Umm, you may have a point there?" Steve half asked, half questioned as he gripped the stair railing, the sharp clank of the wrench in his grip reverting across the now silent aisles of the massive area.

"They have to get together, for real, not some fracking artifact." Claudia's head downcast, her words bouncing off the metal steps as she walked down the staircase.

"And why is that?" Steve was saying, halting just before he slammed into the back of his friend, again.

"And I thought you of all people would know why?" Claudia spinning around, then side-stepping as she let Steve step on the flat of the warehouse floor. "This place, those two were meant to be together. They are destine!" Claudia was saying as she spun around the huge staging area before the rows and rows of aisles,her arms spread out.

"And why would I ' _know'_ better than anyone? Because I am gay?" Steve was now trying to control his building anger, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the wrench in his hand.

"Nooo! Gods no, you think I am that shallow?" Claudia said as she stepped closer to her best friend, gripping his hands and pulling him close, keeping Steve from retreating away. "Think about it, Mykes growing up reading HG all her life, Mrs. F pulling her here to the warehouse and!" her hand releasing her grip on Steve, him standing still, nodding his head for his friend to continue.

"Think of all the things that had to happen, the planets aligning just so, HG being bronzed and then just happening to be unbrozed with Myka here. All the things they went through, saving each other and the world over and over."

"Go on," Steve whispered, knowing where this was leading as he guided Claudia to the Gooery as they walked.

"This was like written in the stars, you know, a cosmic thing." Steve nodding as they went along. "They were meant for each other, no matter time or space." Claudia then stopped, turning to face her best friend with tears streaming down her cheeks. "They have to be together because …" her last words choking out between her quivering lips.

"I know Claud," Steve keeping his voice soft as he pulled Claudia to him, hugging all his feelings into his best friend. "And they will, be together." kissing his words into the top of soft,red hair.

XXX

"A word, Agent Wells?" the voice of the caretaker causing Helena to pause just before the car outside the warehouse.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" Helena replied as she wiped her hands with the rag she pulled from her back pocket.

"Endless wonder," the caretaker sighed as she followed the line of sight of the Brit up to the dark sky above them.

"Yes, quite a deception the luminescent can create." Helena sighed as she tossed the soiled rag over her shoulder, her other hand gripping the handle of the black SUV she procured. Never the mind of it's similarities to the black monstrosity Myka so dearly loved.

"I have given all the night off at the inn, the rest vested in the warehouse. There shall be only you and Agent Bering, the rest is up to you, Helena."

"Meaning?" Helena asked as she turned to the voice behind her.

The soft plains and valleys of the desert where illuminated by the bright shine of the unapedied stars of the night sky. "Of course," Helena sighed into the blank space that was once occupied by the caretaker, the glimmer of a faint glow illuminating the now empty space.

xxx

After watching Myka run up the stairs, her nervous grating with each word from Peter ; she was coming to terms from the revelation that he had intimate knowledge of her Myka.

"Peter, would you be as so kind as to leave for awhile?" Helena had said as she stopped on the small landing of the stairs.

"Um, sure?" he questioned,then turning around as he held his keys in his hand. "If you hurt her again like Boone …"

"Let's not transverse that road, shall we?" her eyes steeling at the small figure standing at the bottom of the stairs.

"No, ' _let's not'_ " he said in the worst British accent ever heard.

"Go, find your true love and please allow me the same courtesy,"

Helena had her hand still, just an inch from Myka's bedroom door, listening as she heard the faint sound of his car pulling away, her head leaning to the wood barrier as she listened to the small, faint sounds of something being shuffled around, draws closing as then the soft pad of those feet came closer to the other side of the wooden barrier.

Helena crossed her arms over her waist, trying her utmost to still the rapid churning inside as her ears picked up the soft clanking of the brass metal turning on the handle of Myka's doorknob.

"I have …" her words, her every thought escaping as she looked upon Myka. A soft, white terry cloth robe was all the agent wore as she had opened the door.

"Come in," was a mere whisper as Myka held onto the door knob, moving to the side as she opened the door further to her room. Helena spun around when she heard the faint click of the dead bolt sliding shut behind her. Helena turned, a soft smile crossing her lips, the faint smell of the herbal scented shampoo filling the room, Myka's hair still a bit damp around the base of her neck.

"I was wondering how long you would be before knocking on my door," Myka was saying as she tightened the sash on her robe. Helena watching as Myka kneeled down to the bottom drawer and pulling it open.

"I wished to allow you as much …" her voice catching in her throat as she watched the crystal cantor filled with amber liquid placed with a thunk on the top of Myka's dresser draw, her body still bending as her hand reached further back into the draw.

"I was a bit hesitant and felt some reserve was needed before I …" her words halting as Myka pulled the leather harness out, the sickly sound of the brass buckle echoing around the small room as Myka placed it ontop of her dresser draw. She watched as a shaky hand pulled out the plastic box.

"I think I can handle this size but seeing as I never gave you the …" Helena watching as Myka nodded to the boxed phallic sitting on her dresser top. "I never give you the choice of size and …" Myka dropped her head, a curtain of ringlets shielding her face as she nodded to the top of her dresser draw. Helena let out a shaky breath as she walked two steps forward, picking up the glass of amber liquid.

"You were under duress from the influence of the artifact," Helena mumbling into her glass, her eyes closing briefly with gratitude for the smokey aged Scotch Myka had poured.

"And you feel that a romp with this?" her finger tracing over the stiff leather strap with one finger, her other pressing the rim of the glass closer to her bottom lip,

"Would suffice?" a perfect eyebrow arching.

"I screwed this …" her one hand moving between the two of them, her other slowly pulling at her sash, "Whatever this was and I am trying to make up …"

"Hush," Helena said, the firmness in her tone caused Myka's hand to still on her sash as Helena stalked forward. She watched as long, slender fingers placed the empty glass down next to the box that held the phallic.

"This is no _'Tit for Tat_ ' situation Myka Ophelia," Helena's deep timber of her name caused Myka to shiver. Her gulping down a rush of air as those slim fingers halted on her hand holding the end of the sash on her robe. Never had Myka felt so exposed, her world, her body, on display.

"I shall not be seduced into a pity party," Helena whispering next to the shell of Myka's ear, her hands tying the sash on Myka's robe firm. "Allow me the honor .." Helena was saying as she backed away from the shaking form of the young woman. "The privilege of escorting you on the first date you so rightly deserve."

"I believe the correct term is to _'wine and dine'_?" Myka felt her shoulders leaving her ears as Helena gripped her hands, her eyes turning a mist of green as Helena raised them up to her lips. Such gentle, loving care was placed with each kiss on her knuckles.

"Say yes?"

"Yes," Myka's words just an utterance between her lips as she stared into pools of deep, unadulterated love.

The End

Chapter 5

* * *

A/N This is the wrap-up for the story. Thank you to all for this indulgence. No Beta so all mistakes are mine.

* * *

"What the hell was that?" Pete gritting through his teeth as he gripped Helena's arm. "You bolting when things get ' _too real_ '. His fingers looping in mock as Helena steeled her dark as night gaze on the agent.

"Do not speculate on things which you have no privy to Agent Lattimer," Helena hissed through gritted teeth, yanking her arm free of the grip from the man-child. "Myka and I have a …" her words falling flat as she ascended the stairs.

"A what HG?" his arms thrown to the retreating form of the agent that was once his strong, beat you up, take no prisoners, sugar hating partner. Both watching as Myka tossed her book on the floor behind her back as she raced up the stairs, two rungs at a time, something she would have never done in a million years. Helena leaned back against the wood rail, arms crossed in defiance as both sets of eyes watched the tall agent whisk by them.

Minds on different planes, Pete worrying his bottom lip as a blur rushed by him, all the days since they had gotten back. Not a word between them.

"You think I am amused by this, Agent Lattimer?" her grit and disdain filling the small space of the B&B.

"I ...ummm," Pete unable to reply as all the blood rushed to his head. His one hand feeling as it arched around the now empty room. "I could not even fathom the things you had to do, heck, wammies being what they are but …" his head bowed, eyes digging a hole into the wood plank floor as he extended his hand to the elder woman.

"Ray Charles could see how Mykes has been avoiding you like the dark plaque." Pete whispered as he astutely studied his feet. "Hell, you two have been in orbit since you both have come home from that last snag, bag and tag." his boyish grin fading at the grim frown on Helena's lips. "But!" Pete slapping his hands together as he mock grinned at Helena. "AT least you got your groove on?" his head bouncing from side to side as he snapped his fingers together. "Hey!" his voice fading as Helena slowly traversed each rung up the stairs, never looking back.

"Neanderthal," Helena said over her shoulder as she ascended the rungs.

Helena's rapping of her knuckles were sure and swift, biting her bottom lip as she crossed her arms around her waist, taking a step back from the old oak door, awaiting some reply, any reply what so ever from the goddess she yearned for, nary, ached for within the depths of her bones.

Seconds felt like eons as she waited for some semblance, of any stirring from behind the closed door :

The layover in Chicago was child's play in emotions and the feeling helplessness compared to the torture she once endured in Hong Kong.

Myka had not said a word after the effects of the artifact has worn off. Their flight to Rapid City was delayed, hence the layover in the windy city.

Helena, by chance, and a pray to whatever Gods would listen, gripped the elbow of the younger agent as they settled into the stiff back chairs of the airport. "I forgo any response for my actions with the utmost regard as to the well being of yourself from the …"

"Don't," the word barely a whisper as the younger woman gently pulled her arm away. "I am so ashamed …"

"You have nothing to be ashamed of, my heart would never let you suffer," her words fading as she gently thumbed away the stray tear cascading down that perfect cheek."You have saved me countless times and this but a hump over the heart," her words lightly brushing the shell of Myka's ear, near as she pressed her words, her body, her soul, as close as she could.

"If …" Helena leaned back, her eyes dancing as they were met by questioning green. "Say, by chance, if the leather was reversed?"

"Go on," was but a mere wisp of words as Myka settled back in her chair, arms crossed tightly around her twisting gut.

"If the roles were reversed ...?" Helena letting her words trail down to a utter of a whisper. Not daring to look up at Myka.

"You have any doubts within yourself that would let me succumb to death because of that damn artifact !?" Myka's harsh words caused Helena to snap her head up from the studious endeavor on her said concentration of the quick against her thumb nail. Helena felt herself sinking into that hideous plastic chair as sad, hurt filled eyes filled her vision. Helena just sighed and nodded a half agrement, her hair cascading as a curtain to hide the pain on her face.

"What hurts the most …" Myka stopping her words as she harshly raked the heel of her palm against the sting of salted tears on her cheek. Helena watching as Myka rubbed her hand against the soft denim of her knee-covered leg, Helena knowing the young woman was trying to steady her emotions as best she could.

"And what would that be, my darling?" Helena turning in that damn plastic chair in the middle of the concourse at O'Hare International.

"That I had this deluded dream, this romanticized idea that my … our first time would be on a rose-petal covered bed. Soft words of adoration and professions of love." Myka sniffed, rubbing her long sleeved shirt just under her nose. Myka gave a soft gulp of air as she watched Helena smile, a small, sheepish parting of lips as she felt cool, slender fingers brush gently along the side of her cheek.

"But I messed it all up," Myka's voice becoming a bitter rasp as she turned her head away from cool, forgiving fingertips.

"No, my love," was a faint whisper as Myka bolted up from those cheap, plastic seats in the middle of the concourse.

"I fucked it ...fucked us up." Myka said, her words coming through gritted teeth, harsh filled regret dripping from each word."I was such a whore, forcing myself on you and fucking up what slim chance we had between us," her words fading as she stormed off. Helena feeling helpless as she watched Myka march to the front of the line of waiting passengers. The TSA agent fumbling as Myka flashed her badge, demanding they board the next flight out of ' _this hell'._

Helena rushed to gather their bags as Myka brushed aside her power jacket, her side-arm just peaking out as Helena reached for Myka's elbow, guiding them past the flummoxed agent, bags in tow.

 _ONE WEEK LATER_

Nothing else was said for days after the return, even an impromptu pop-in from Mrs. F did not alleviate the growing tension that was now engulfing the B&B. The Warehouse not faring any better as it shot out purple bolts of discontentment whenever anyone dared to enter the aisles.

"Good googly, I am so over getting zapped on my back side when ever I go down there!" Claudia huffed, her hand placing the frozen bag of peas on her rear after raiding Artie's small refrigerator. Her eyes narrowing at the uncomfortable cough Steve was trying to cover up.

"Donovan!" Claudia hunching her shoulders as the old man stormed into the room. "Touch anything of mine again …" his tirade cut short by the loud thump of folders slamming on Artie's desk.

"I am done with inventory of aisles BB 200 through 900." Myka said, ignoring the jumps and almost heart attacks her entrance into Artie's office caused as she then placed her face near the retinal scan of the umbilicus door. "Heading to the inn." Myka saying in a monotone voice, the loud hiss of the seal from the door halting any response from the room.

"Yes, well. Good job Myka." Artie was sputtering out as he pushed his wire framed glasses up the bridge of his."Yes, take the rest of the day off," he mumbled as he spun around, then burying his head into the files Myka had slammed on his desk. Everyone's shoulders jumping up to their ears with the slam of umbilicus door behind the agent.

"Smooth there old man," Claudia mumbled, Helena's sudden appearance into the office causing all to look.

"Bollocks bollocks, BOLLOCKS!" the swear stopping all, Pete grabbed his stomach, lurching over as he moaned at the vibes that hit him.

"Who the bloody hell redesigned the purple neutralizer …" her words halting as Mrs. Fredric appeared before them all in the tiny space that was Artie's office.

"The Regents so upgraded the design, Agent Wells," Helena's mouth clamping shut as she tossed the gooed cover wrench down on Artie's desk.

"Yes, so be it." Helena was saying, her face twisting as her fingers tangled in a small pocket of goo that had attached itself to her hair. "I believe, even in my apprentice days in Warehouse 12 that the greenhorn was tasked with cleaning and flushing the pipes." her frown slowly ticking as she handed the goo-soaked wrench to Steve. "Happy hunting Agent Jinks"

"Did Myka depart?" Helena was asking as she scrubbed her hands in the small sink, never looking up as she dug out the rest of the pureple goo from under her fingernails.

"Has the power flashes stopped?" Steve asking as he frowned at the gooed covered wrench, side-eyeing Claudia as her squinted at the wrench in his hand.

"I beleive it shall be safe for you and our young Claudia to peruse the aisles to the 'Gooery' and for the life of me haven't a clue as to why you so choose the endearment for the …" Helena saying as she frowned at the small drop of purple slim running down her finger after running her fingers through her hair.

"If I get zapped in the ass again …" Claudia was huffing as she followed behind Steve.

"I beleive it shall be safe for your backside seeing as Myka has departed and with my departure, you and Steven shall be safe." Helena was saying as she leaned in to the retinal scan, the door popping open with a small whoose. "I feel the need for a ' _Silkwood_ ' shower is in order, goodnight all"

"Did she just make a modern movie reference?" Steve was asking as they both crept down the staircase toward the main floor of the warehouse.

"Don't look at me Steveo, something she may have picked up from her days of playing perfect house with the Beaver Cleaver family back in Boone."

"So not right and we all know that Claud. The damn vibes from all the denial almost knocked me over. So not wanting to go through that again and I think that is why the warehouse was going nuts with the power bolts when they both got back."

Claudia stopped in her tracks half way down the stairs, Steve letting out a loud yelp as he crashed into the back of the young girl. "Really? And not all the stuff with the Sade and the wammy and Myka freaking and HG shutting herself off had anything to do with the warehouse freaking out?!"

"Umm, you may have a point there?" Steve half asked, half questioned as he gripped the stair railing, the sharp clank of the wrench in his grip reverting across the now silent aisles of the massive area.

"They have to get together, for real, not some fracking artifact." Claudia's head downcast, her words bouncing of the metal steps as she walked down the staircase.

"And why is that?" Steve was saying, halting just before he slammed into the back of his friend.

"And I thought you of all people would know why?" Claudia spinning around, then side-stepping as she let Steve step on the flat of the warehouse floor. "This place, those two were meant to be together. They are destine!" Claudia was saying as she spun around the huge staging area before the rows and rows of aisles,her arms spread out.

"And why would I ' _know'_ better than anyone? Because I am gay?" Steve was now trying to control his building anger, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the wrench in his hand.

"Nooo! Gods no, you think I am that shallow?" Claudia said as she stepped closer to her best friend, gripping his hands and pulling him close, keeping Steve from retreating away. "Think about it, Mykes growing up reading HG all her life, Mrs. F pulling her here to the warehouse and!" her hand releasing her grip on Steve, him standing still, nodding his head for his friend to continue.

"Think of all the things that had to happen, the planets aligning just so, HG being bronzed and then just happening to be unbrozed with Myka here. All the things they went through, saving each other and the world over and over."

"Go on," Steve whispered, knowing where this was leading as he guided Claudia to the Gooery as they walked.

"This was like written in the stars, you know, a cosmic thing." Steve nodding as they went along. "They were meant for each other, no matter time or space." Claudia then stopped, turning to face her best friend with tears streaming down her cheeks. "They have to be together because …" her last words choking out between her quivering lips.

"I know Claud," Steve keeping his voice soft as he pulled Claudia to him, hugging all his feelings into his best friend. "And they will, be together." kissing his words into the top of soft,red hair.

XXX

"A word, Agent Wells?" the voice of the caretaker causing Helena to pause just before the car outside the warehouse.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" Helena replied as she wiped her hands with the rag she pulled from her back pocket.

"Endless wonder," the caretaker sighed as she followed the line of sight of the Brit up to the dark sky above them.

"Yes, quite a deception the luminescent can create." Helena sighed as she tossed the soiled rag over her shoulder, her other hand gripping the handle of the black SUV she procured. Never the mind of it's similarities to the black monstrosity Myka so dearly loved.

"I have given all the night off at the inn, the rest vested in the warehouse. There shall be only you and Agent Bering,the rest is up to you, Helena."

"Meaning?" Helena asked as she turned to the voice behind her.

The soft plains and valleys of the desert where illuminated by the bright shine of the unapedied stars of the night sky. "Of course," Helena sighed into the blank space that was once occupied by the caretaker, the glimmer of a faint glow illuminating the now empty space.

After watching Myka run up the stairs, her nervous grating with each word from Peter ; she was coming to terms from the revelation that he had intimate knowledge of her Myka.

"Peter, would you be as so kind as to leave for awhile?" Helena had said as she stopped on the small landing of the stairs.

"Um, sure?" he questioned,then turning around as he held his keys in his hand. "If you hurt her again like Boone …"

"Let's not transverse that road, shall we?" her eyes steeling at the small figure standing at the bottom of the stairs.

"No,' _let's not'_ " he said in the worst British accent ever heard.

"Go, find your true love and please allow me the same courtesy,"

Helena hand her hand still, just an inch from Myka's bedroom door, listening as she heard the faint sound of his car pulling, her head leaning to the wood barrier as she listened to the small, faint sounds of something being shuffled around, draws closing as then the soft pad of those feet to the other side of the wooden barrier.

Helena crossed her arms over her waist, trying her utmost to still the rapid churning inside as her ears picked up the soft clanking of the brass metal turning on the handle of Myka's doorknob.

"I have …" her words, her every thought escaping as she looked upon Myka. A soft, white terry cloth robe was all the agent wore as she had opened the door.

"Come in," was a mere whisper as Myka held onto the door knob, moving to the side as she opened the door further to her room. Helena spun around when she heard the faint click of the dead bolt sliding shut behind her. Helena turned, a soft smile crossing her lips, the faint smell of the herbal scented shampoo filling the room, Myka's hair still a bit damp around the base of her neck.

"I was wondering how long you would be before knocking on my door," Myka was saying as she tightened the sash on her robe. Helena watching as Myka kneeled down to the bottom drawer and pulling it open.

"I wished to allow you as much …" her voice catching in her throat as she watched the crystal cantor filled with amber liquid placed with a thunk on the top of Myka's dresser draw, her still bending as her hand reached further back into the draw.

"I was a bit hesitant and felt some reserve was needed before I …" her words halting as Myka pulled the leather harness out, the sickly sound of the brass buckle echoing around the small room as Myka placed it ontop of her dresser draw. She watched as a shaky hand pulled out the plastic box.

"I think I can handle this size but seeing as I never gave you the …" Helena watching as Myka nodded to the boxed phallic sitting on her dresser top. "I never give you the choice of size and …" Myka dropped her head, a curtain of ringlets shielding her face as she nodded to the top of her dresser draw. Helena let out a shaky breath as she walked two steps forward, picking up the glass of amber liquid.

"You were under duress from the influence of the artifact," Helena mumbling into her glass, her eyes closing briefly with gratitude for the smokey aged Scotch Myka had poured.

"And you feel that a romp with this?" her finger tracing over the stiff leather strap with one finger, her other pressing the rim of the glass closer to her bottom lip, "Would suffice?" a perfect eyebrow arching.

"I screwed this …" her one hand moving between the two of them, her other slowly pulling at her sash, "Whatever this was and I am trying to make up …"

"Hush," Helena said, the firmness in her tone caused Myka's hand to still on her sash as Helena stalked forward. She watched as long, slender fingers placed the empty glass down next to the box that held the phallic.

"This is no 'Tit for Tat' situation Myka Ophelia," Helena's deep timber of her her caused Myka to shiver. Her gulping down a rush of air as those slim fingers halted on her hand holding the end of the sash on her robe. Never had Myka felt so exposed, her world, her body on display.

"I shall not be seduced into a pity party," Helena whispering next to the shell of Myka's ear, her hands tying the sash on Myka's robe firm. "Allow me the honor .." Helena was saying as she backed away from the shaking form of the young woman. "The privilege of escorting you on the first date you so rightly deserve."

"I believe the correct term is to 'wine and dine'?" Myka felt her shoulders leaving her ears as Helena gripped her hands, her eyes turning a mist of green as Helena raised them up to her lips. Such gentle, loving care with each kiss on her knuckles.

"Say yes?"

"Yes," Myka's words just an utterance between her lips as she stared into pools of deep, unadulterated love.

The End


End file.
